


The Dream Catcher

by CastielsCarma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 14x19 coda, Coda, Communication, Confessions, Episode: s14e19 Jack in the Box, M/M, let's all ignore the deal with the Shadow on this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:10:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma
Summary: Dean is trying to deal with Mary's death, Jack being gone and what he feels is Cas' betrayal. Mostly, Dean Winchester is trying to deal with himself. Literally.





	The Dream Catcher

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you have to kill three hours in a car.

Dean had experienced a lot of fucked up things in his life, hell, he’d done a lot of things that people had condemned _him_ for and rightly so. 

_You're dead to me._

Dean rubbed a hand over his face and sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh. He glanced at the dream catcher tossed on the bed next to him. One of Mary’s friends had brought it with her to the wake. Apparently, it had been something that Mary had requested be made for him. The hoop was made of willow but that was the only traditional thing about the dream catcher. The stone attached to it was in an off white color and not something that Dean was really familiar with. A rock was a rock.

Dean had done some on-the-surface-research and quickly discovered that dream catchers were usually given to children. Adults where expected to interpret their own dreams, whether good or bad. Technically, he _was_ Mary’s child but he was way past the dream catcher-giving-stage. And he knew what he wanted. _Some fucking peace of mind. Mary back. Jack to be OK again, to be back with them, Cas to..._

His anger seethed below the surface, but the one person he was really angry at was himself, not Cas. He regretted the words he'd spoken to Cas as soon as they were out of his mouth but the anger and sorrow he'd felt had overridden any rational thought he’d had. Sure, it had been wrong of Cas to keep Jack’s condition a secret but it wasn’t like Dean hadn’t had an inkling himself or that he hadn’t kept any secrets from Cas. It was all a fucking mess. 

Grabbing the dream catcher, Dean hung it up on the wall over his bed. It was not really his style but it had been a gift from his mom. His fingers touched the white pearl. It was from mom, and he’d keep it. 

For a short moment, Dean thought he’d go over to Cas’ room but then thought better of it. He’d give Cas, and himself one more day. Sleep would maybe give him some clarity in how he’d, how _they_ would handle the cluster fuck that was Jack going nuclear on the lose. Dean got out of his pants and socks quickly and discarded them in the hamper in the corner. He removed his T-shirt and brought it to his nose, inhaling. Smelled alright, so Dean tossed it over the chair or his not-clean-not-yet-dirty-pile.

He eased down under the covers and looked at the door. One eye on the watch revealed that it was almost midnight. Dean debated leaving the door ajar so Cas could enter but decided against it. Tomorrow. He’d handle all of this tomorrow. _Isn't that what you always say?"_ The thought irked him and Dean did what he’d always done. a hundred times before. He pushed the voice down, closed his eyes and tried to find some rest.

When Dean slowly roused from sleep it was with a feeling of well-rest and energy he hadn’t felt in ages. Not since Cas has been back after... his death. Yawning, Dean was about to get up when he saw a man standing in his room with his back turned to Dean.

With a well-practiced maneuver, Dean reached behind the pillow and grabbed his gun, pointing it straight at the intruder. Safety clicked off he spoke low. “I don’t know who you are or what you want but you better turn the fuck around before I blow your head off.”

The man slowly turned around; his hands up in the air. He smirked, full lips turned up in a familiar smile, green eyes alert and framed with thick lashes, freckles splashed over checks and dark brown hair in a wild mess, as he’d been sleeping and just woken up.

“Oh, Dean. I know you want to blow a head but it sure as hell isn’t mine.” The other Dean raised an eyebrow. “Although, we’ve always wondered how it would feel to give ourselves a blowjob.”

Dean still had his gun raised as he slowly walked up to his desk, not letting his eyes off whatever the apparition before him was. He tossed his other self a silver knife.

The other Dean just shook his head as he grabbed the knife and rolled up his sleeve. “This is your problem, Dean. Always with the precautions and being guarded. You got to let go sometimes. Fuck, soon you’ll be as dull as a PTA -volunteer. Crochet and lukewarm tea next.” The other Dean nicked his underarm until there was a small rivulet of blood, trailing down.

“There. No shifter.” He took a few steps towards Dean until they were so close they could almost touch and then pulled his hand back. 

The sharp slap across Dean’s check cracked loudly in the bedroom. Dean tightened his grip on the gun but didn’t shot the fucker. 

“What was that for, you ass?” Although he’d have no qualms about hurting someone that looked like himself it would have been a shame. He _was_ good looking after all.

“Just helped you make sure you’re not dreaming. Which you are not.”

Dean rubbed his check, casting a murderous glare at his doppelgänger and refused to acknowledge the pain or the flush of pleasure that had worked its way straight to his cock.

The other Dean turned and walked towards the door.

Dean raised his gun again. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going where you are too afraid to go. And I’m going to do the thing you, we, really _want_ to do. You can call me... DreamDean.”

Dean made a face. “DreamDean? That’s gotta be the most ridiculous name I’ve ever heard. Don’t you have a better name I can call you?”

“Nope. And it was better than your other suggestion. Drean? Really, Dean? Anyway, catch you later.” With that declaration, the other Dean vanished. 

Son of a bitch, Dean muttered, as he ran towards the door.

The door to Cas’ room was closed. Dean hesitated. He couldn’t just barge in, he needed an explanation, although his mind came up blank. He’d just make sure DreamDean was in actually in there, before waltzing in and making a fool of himself. DreamDean, what a fucking joke. DoucheDean would have been a better suggestion. 

Carefully, Dean placed his ear on the door. For a moment there was just silence, then Dean could hear muted voices and laughter. They were having fun in there, pretending to be in The Parent Trap while Dean was out here almost having a heart attack. 

Dean opened the door, only to find Cas and DreamDean on the bed, talking in hushed voices. Cas turned his attention to Dean, his features suddenly guarded although Dean didn’t fail to note the relief in his eyes. Zooming in on DreamDean’s hand on Cas’ shoulder, Dean narrowed his eyes but it was the other hand on Cas’ fucking thigh that made him bristle.

“You, DeanDouche. If you don’t stop feeling Cas up I swear, I’ll punch you. Back the fuck up.” 

Cas had at least the decency to blush but DreamDean’s hand stayed put. He looked at Dean cooly and squeezed Cas’ thigh again. 

“I wouldn’t worry about him, Cas. He is just cranky, 'cause he’s not had his morning dose of the black gold yet. But _this_ is exactly what I was talking about.” He waved a hand towards Dean as if that explained everything.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas spoke softly but he didn’t make a motion to remove DreamDean’s hand or get up for that matter.

Suddenly, Dean was lost for words. Sure, he and Cas had talked after their... blowout but things had felt awkward and wrong. And they hadn’t really talked about what mattered the most.

DreamDean grabbed Cas’ hand, a thumb stroking casually, his eyes on Dean’s like a hawk as if daring him to say something.

Dean was not afraid. He took a seat on Cas’ other side, forcing DreamDean to scoot out a bit. He wanted to grab Cas’ hand too but opted for putting his hands in his lap instead.

“Umm, hi Cas. I can explain... this.” He made a gesture towards his asshole version. DreamDean didn’t care. His hand was still resting on Cas’ thigh, almost possessively so, still wearing that stupid smile on his face. And Cas didn’t seem to mind.

Suddenly it hit him. Cas didn’t seem to _mind_. His pulse went up but instead of fear or anger being the reason for his increased heart rate, this was solely fueled by hope and dangerous optimism.

“I’m listening,” Cas said simply but Dean didn’t fail to note the curious gleam in his eyes. He also didn't fail to note that Cas _still_ hadn't made a move to remove the other Dean’s hand.

Cas paused but Dean had no fucking clue on where or how to start. Cas did it for him.

“Right. So the manifestation of your subconscious is sitting here,” Cas’ eyes flashed to DreamDean’s hand firmly planted on his thigh, “because...”

“You told him who you are? Hell, even _I_ don’t know what or who you are. That you were this...”

DreamDean suddenly jumped up, posing dramatically. “I’m your subconscious mind and desires come manifest. Granted, you have a lot of those desires but a surprisingly large amount of them involves your desires to be loved for who you really are and for sweet cakes here to love you back. There are also those desires for Cas to grab you by the hair and -“

Dean pointed a finger at DreamDean. “Alright, you stop talking, right now!”

DreamDean just rolled his eyes, his attention focused on Cas. “We are such a drama queen when we are afraid, Cas, my angel. Don’t mind him.”

For the first time in a while, Dean could see a smile on Cas’ face. 

“I’m not,” Dean objected.

DreamDean just clicked his tongue. “Says the badass hunter, who decided to build a fucking Ma’lak box and thought it was a good idea to lock himself up there forever. Totally ignoring the people who care and love him. The people who _love_ him.” 

DreamDean paused and pointed at Cas behind his back. “I’m not wrong. And I know you speak out of your ass because you have secrets of your own. Glass houses, stones and all that.”

Cas’ eyes were guarded as he glanced at Dean. DreamDean leaned in, way too close if Dean could say so and whispered something in Cas' ear. Cas’ eyes went wide and he got up from the bed, suddenly angry.

“Dean! When I died, did you try to kill yourself? How could you -“

Dean glared at his copy.

“Dickface! How do you -? You don’t get to tell Cas that!”

DreamDean just shrugged. “I’m you. And we’ve been dying to tell Cas forever, but we are afraid. Hell, we could have been naked and afraid _with_ Cas instead if you’d just let go and do it.” 

The other Dean punched Cas lightly on the shoulder. “Speaking of naked and afraid. I really need to tell you about that fantasy Dean has -“

Cas interrupted DreamDean. “You tried to kill your self... because of me?” Cas’ voice was careful and guarded. 

Dean’s heart hammered in his chest. Just tell him. He had no idea that everything would turn out to be so complicated, more than usual, when he got up this morning.

“Well... I was not in a good place when you died, Cas. And you didn’t come back. No matter what I did...I was sad... _broken_ really.” The last words were merely a whisper and Dean looked down. He couldn’t believe he’d said that but strangely enough, he felt better. It was like a huge, invisible burden had been lifted off his shoulders. Slowly, he slumped down to the floor.

Cas looked at Dean. “I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t realize my death affected you so... greatly. It was not right to kill - “

“ _Greatly?_ Dean mourned like a goddamn war widow.” Suddenly DreamDean’s voice turned somber. “We took it really hard.”

Dean cleared his throat as Cas sat down next to him. 

“I... I thought I’d lost you for good, Cas. I couldn’t cope. Hell, I even begged Chuck to fix things, not that he ever listens. And I loved you.” 

He could feel Cas stiffen next to him and dared take a look at him. His blue eyes were guarded but also angry.

“And that’s it?” Cas bit out.

DreamDean leaned down and whispered in Cas’ ear, all the while shooting daggers at Dean. 

Cas barked out a laugh at something the other Dean said. “You are right about that.”

“Hey, stop whispering about what the hell you are whispering about.” 

DreamDean glared at Dean. “Why? Secrets bothering you, Dean? Then tell Cas the _truth!_ ”

“What truth?”

“The truth!” DreamDean jumped up, pointing an accusatory finger at Dean. “But you can’t handle the truth!” He winked at Cas. “Great movie, Cas. We should watch it sometimes.”

Dean was breathing heavily. He was pissed off that this Dean-clone was pressing all the right buttons, he was angry at himself for still hesitating, angry that they’d lost time, lost everything, angry, just angry. 

Fuck it. “I love you, Cas! I’m _in_ love with you, alright!” It was not how he’d fantasized about finally coming clean to Cas, but it was out nonetheless.

He waited for something to happen, a rock to fall on his head, DreamDean to punch him, Cas to laugh at him, anything but the silence that weighed heavily between them. 

Cas was silent for so long that Dean’s fears came bubbling back. Then a huge smile cracked the angel's face. “You love me? Like Hadrian and Antinous? Enkidu and Gilgamesh? Like Romeo and Juliet?”

Dean’s lashes cast shadows on his checks but then he finally looked up, braving his fears. “Yeah, I love you.” He smiled hesitantly, taking in the look on Cas' face. “I don’t know about two thirds of those, but yeah. I’ve loved you a long time but I was just - “

“Having crippling issues about not being lovable or worthy of love due to your negative experiences as a child coupled with your fear of people abandoning you and that your only redeemable quality was to hide who you really was and shape yourself into something other because who could love the Dean that was truly you, especially an angel of the Lord?” 

“I don’t care _what_ or _how_ this spell or whatever works, but this is...”

“What you’ve told yourself subconsciously for years?” DreamDean shook his head sadly. “I would know, I am you.”

Cas’ eyes widened as realization set in. “You thought you weren’t worthy?”

Dean rubbed his neck. “I don’t, I wouldn’t put it like that...” He sighed. “But something along those lines I guess.”

Cas grabbed Dean’s hand, a huge smile on his lips. Then he leaned forward and kissed Dean on the mouth.

Dean’s pulse skyrocketed, as his heart tried to escape his chest, then he thought, fuck it all, and his hands were in Cas’ hair, pulling the angel in closer, as his tongue pried Cas’ mouth open. Pure electricity coursed through Dean and he almost felt delirious. Maybe this was still a dream.

“It’s not a dream,” DreamDean called. 

Dean broke the kiss and opened his eyes only to see his other self, cuddled close to Cas, his arm around Cas’ waist.

“Hey! Hands off!”

“He is _ours,_ ” DreamDean bit back but then calmed down. “Oh, ima take a few steps back. Energy shift incoming!”

Dean furrowed his eyes in confusion but then Cas pointed a sharp finger at his chest.

“What you said to me, Dean. I know you were hurting, I could _feel_ your pain. But that was not right! I did what I did for _us_ , for all of us as a family and to save Jack. And now, learning how my death devastated you...”

Dean licked his lips. “I’m sorry, Cas. That was really fucked up...”

“It was,” DreamDean interrupted. “You need to work on that, Dean. It takes more balls to admit you are hurting than you lashing out. I can call upon the manifestation of your self worth if you care to tumble around with him. It’s soon Hasta La Vista for me.” 

Dean shook his head. “One ... _manifestation_ a day, that’s all I can take.”

Cas touched Dean’s shoulder, his hand lingering. “I forgive you, Dean. But if you do something remotely like that again, I will call you out on it. No more hiding.” His voice held an edge to it and his eyes actually glowed with grace. 

Dean could feel the weight of it in his bones. “No more hiding.”

DreamDean applauded. “Amazing work, Dean. My time is soon up, so if you don’t mind...”

He grabbed Cas’ arm and pulled him away, his body pressed close to the angel’s.

Instead of feeling jealousy or anger Dean felt a need to do the same, to claim Cas in every way imaginable.

DreamDean’s lips were close to Cas’ ear but he spoke loudly, so Dean could hear it too. “Now, we really like this.” He lowered his voice and whispered. Cas listened intently, nodding at something.

Dean did not like where this was going. “What are you talking about? Hey, DickDean, no secrets, remember?”

DreamDean looked at Dean and grinned. “And Dean may object in the beginning but me and him both _really_ like when...” Again, he whispered as Cas’ eyebrows rose.

“I’m sure I and Dean can come to an arrangement of sorts.”

Cas's voice sounded amused and sincere at the same time.

DreamDean looked at Dean and made an OK sign. “Don’t worry, Dean. I got you.” He smiled and then he was gone as suddenly as he came, leaving the hunter and angel alone.

Dean let out a sigh of relief, then looked at Cas, suddenly feeling awkward. “I think it was the dream catcher,” Dean tried to explain.

Cas just nodded, as if that explained everything and took a step forward.

Dean was right there, hugging Cas closely, and it was as if at least a small part of his world was right again.

“Dean. I’m so sorry about Mary. I truly am, but Jack, he is our _kid_. We can’t just abandon him - “

Letting go, Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and looked at him, warring feelings inside. “You are right, Cas... We need to find Jack and make things right again. I guess we’ll have to find another way.”

“We always do.”

“Alright, let’s hit the books. I’m sure Sammy will jump with joy. Research is his idea of fun.”

Cas tried to pull away from Dean's hand as they walked out in the hallway but Dean didn’t let go, squeezing Cas’ hand harder instead.

Cas smiled softly, and together they walked hand in hand towards the library.


End file.
